


One Last Proposal

by chevrolangels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Dean Winchester Proposes Marriage to Castiel, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fake Proposals, Fluff, Imagine your OTP, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chevrolangels/pseuds/chevrolangels
Summary: “You ready?”“Wait, lemme—okay. Yeah. Go.”“Don’t do that dewy eyes thing again. I nearly burst out laughing last time.”“Just shut up and go—the waiter’s coming.”Prompt: Imagine your OTP proposing repeatedly at different restaurants to get free food.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 228





	One Last Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](https://chevrolangels.tumblr.com/post/110914342662/imagine-your-otp-proposing-repeatedly-at-different)!  
> I saw this [prompt](https://chevrolangels.tumblr.com/post/110733170410/thecakelessachiever-deliverusfromsburb-imagine) about fake proposals turning real, and I couldn't resist 🤗💕  
> And with that, so ends the tumblr migration of old ficlets. Now to see if I can make headway on my many thousands of WIPs 😆  
> Enjoy!

“You ready?”

“Wait, lemme—okay. Yeah. Go.”

“Don’t do that dewy eyes thing again. I nearly burst out laughing last time.”

“Just shut up and go—the waiter’s coming.”

Dean hastily leans back, fumbling with the cheap velvet box in his palm. Cas is barely suppressing his grin, pretending to be interested in the dessert menu.

The waitress is at the table opposite them, and Dean taps his fingers patiently against his leg. Just a little bit closer.

“You know, I was gonna wait ‘til we got back home, but I don’t think I can anymore.”

Cas looks up, expression of surprise just on the edge of believable.

“Dean?” He asks carefully.

“Dammit, Cas, I can’t stand it!”

Dean throws his napkin down, standing with a dramatic flourish. Heads are starting to turn towards their table, and their waitress is staring at them, her mouth open. Dean fights back his grin. Jackpot.

He drops to one knee, and all around them, surprised gasps and a couple stunned _oh my gods_ echo through the restaurant.

Dean holds up the ring (something they dug out of the bottom of a 99 cent bin in Walmart), adding a hesitant edge to his voice.

“Castiel,” he says gravely. “Love of my life. Will you—will you marry me?”

Cas presses a hand to his heart, his lip trembling a little. (Damn him and those acting classes he took their senior year of college, the _fucker._ )

“Dean,” he breathes. “Of course. Of course!”

Dean is immediately yanked up in the arms of his pseudo-fiancé, as the restaurant dissolves into a cacophony of whoops and applause. Cas smiles against his lips.

“Nailed it,” he whispers.

“As always,” Dean whispers back. Then he kisses him again, because hey—that was the best part of the fake proposing, getting to make out with Cas in front of everyone.

Well, that, and the free food.

It happened kinda by accident.

They were at a restaurant—a slightly more fancy one than usual, and the couple at the table next to them had been making ridiculous doe eyes at each other all night. So when the dude got on one knee and proposed, they clapped along with the rest of the audience, because, hey, why not—but _then_ when the tearful maitre’d told the happy couple that their meal had been taken care of, that’s when things got interesting.

Cas, evil mastermind that he is, came up with the idea.

And that was how Dean first got proposed to in a diner in Chicago, Cas kneeling before him and a shit-eating grin on his face. Free deep dish.

Then an Italian place, just outside of Detroit. Entire meal waived, plus bonus calzones at the end.

At an amusement park, over pink globs of cotton candy. (Free shitty hotdogs, Dean swears Cas only did that one for the hell of it)

At a bakery, an entire pie, ‘congratulations!’ molded on the top in extra dough. (That one came damn close to making Dean _actually_ cry)

Then they starting plotting. Time to go for the bigger fish. Fanciest places they could find.

An uptight French restaurant, somewhere Dean would never had set foot in if he had the choice—where they even did the whole stereotypical ‘ring-in-the-champagne-shit’—but the place ate it up. No bill, plus an extra bottle of champagne at the end of the night, to ‘celebrate their new life together.’ 

And now here, at a little bistro they stopped in on their way back to Kansas. Once again, free meal. At this point, Dean could probably take all the money they’ve saved and buy an _actual_ ring.

Which may or may not be exactly what he’s gonna do.

Now that they’re actually in their hometown, they have to cut out that shit, otherwise people would start to recognize the same couple getting engaged in literally every place that sells food in Lawrence—but Dean thinks they can do one last one.

One last proposal.

A simple silver band, etched with something he said to Cas once.

_I’d rather have you._

Cas’s idea. They both had another day off before they had to go back to work, Cas at the office and Dean at the university—their roadtripping vacation had been, uh…eventful, to say the least. The summer heat started to get to them, and Cas suggested ice cream at Sweet Retreat, their favorite place, just around the corner from their apartment.

Also the place where they hung out for the first time, way back in high school. And where they had their official first date. And where Dean realized he was in love with the idiot.

So now, as they bump shoulders on their way to the tiny shop, Dean is sweating, and it’s not because of the sweltering Kansas heat.

“Dean?”

Dean jerks out of his thoughts. They’re in front of the counter, and Cas is peering at him expectantly, a sweaty lock of hair sticking out, just by his ear. It’s friggin’ adorable.

“What?” He says stupidly.

“What do you want, dork,” Cas says, a sly smile spreading across his face. Dean hastily shrugs.

“Uh. Mint Chocolate Chip’s fine.”

Cas orders for them, and comes back with Mocha Almond Fudge, which he always gets, literally every single time—and Dean takes a deep breath. Now or never.

“Cas.”

“Hmm?”

He hands Dean his ice cream, then turns to his own, where it’s already dripping down the side of his cone. He licks it up, and Dean’s brain short-circuits for a second.

“Um.”

He clears his throat, the ring burning a hole in his pocket.

“I just—I can’t believe it’s been five years already.”

Cas smiles, reaching out to briefly squeeze his hand.

“And it’s—it’s been amazing. Seriously. Sometimes I don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t found you.”

“Probably in a ditch somewhere,” Cas says idly, turning over his cone, sizing up where to take his next bite. Because of course Cas is one of those weirdos that _bites_ ice cream. Which Dean weirdly loves about him.

Dean waves away his snarky comment and tries agin.

“And I know I’m an idiot,” he says, tripping over the words a little. “But you tolerate me ‘cause I’m _your_ idiot, and I just…”

He trails off. Cas’s head is tilted to the side, and he’s watching him now, those bright blue eyes fixed on him. Dean’s heart skips a beat.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He slips a hand into his pocket, clasping the ring.

“I want to make you happy,” he confesses softly. “And I wanna keep doing that every day, for the rest of our lives.”

Cas has gone completely still. He seems to be holding his breath, and for a second, it looks as if he might cry. Dean takes a deep breath, and pulls out the ring.

“Cas,” he says, his voice barely more than whisper. 

“Will you marry me?”

“Dean,” Cas murmurs. “Of course. Of course—“

He grabs his shirt and pulls him in, just avoiding slopping ice cream all over the front of his shirt, kissing him until Dean sees stars. He’s barely aware of people clapping in the background, the owner’s delighted squeal as he slips the silver band around Cas’s finger, he doesn’t care—‘cause Cas said yes, he said _yes_ —

And then it all comes crashing down.

“You asshole.”

Cas finally breaks from his lips, laughing a little.

“You really had me going for a minute,” he mutters, wiping his eyes.

Dean’s heart drops.

“What?”

“Sounded almost like a real proposal,” Cas says, looking at the ring on his finger. Dean gapes at him.

“And this is new,” Cas says, frowning. “Where’d you find it?”

A thought that resembles something like _Are you fucking kidding me_ wanders through Dean’s mind.

Cas’s obliviousness was usually pretty funny to him, even adorable at times—but definitely not right now. Dean wants to punch himself in the face. What else did he expect—after weeks of false proposals—why would Cas ever take a real one seriously, unless Dean spelled it out for him, letter by letter?

Goddammit.

So when Cas finishes his ice cream (fuckin’ finally), Dean stands and lets Cas take his hand, the shop applauding them as they push out the door, bell tinkling in their wake. Dean clings to his hand, wondering vaguely if his palms are sweating. Probably.

Here we go. Round 2.

“Cas.”

“Yeah?”

“So…um. That proposal.”

Cas flashes him a quick smile.

“It was a nice one.” He laughs. “You’re getting too good at this.”

“That’s ‘cause—“

Dean swallows. 

Nut up, Winchester.

“It’s because it was real, Cas.”

Cas freezes in his tracks.

“What?” He squeaks out, staring at him.

“It was real,” Dean mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I was trying to friggin’ propose to you, dumbass.”

Cas just stares at him for a moment.

“Oh my god.”

He brings a hand to his forehead, looking utterly horrified.

“Oh my _god_ , and—and _that_ was my response—shit, Dean, I’m so sorry—“

“No, I shouldn’t have—“

“Do it again.”

Dean blinks.

“What?”

“Do it again,” Cas orders firmly.

He twists the ring off his finger and shoves it into Dean’s hands, gesturing towards himself.

“C’mon.”

Dean snaps out of it, clumsily dropping to one knee.

“I, um—“

He can’t fight his smile, barely able to get the words out.

“Castiel Novak, I—“

“Yes,” Cas says immediately. Dean scoffs.

“Dude, you can’t cut me off like that—“

Cas pulls him up, grabbing his face.

“Dean. Shut up.”

Then he kisses him. He kisses him breathless, kisses and kisses him until a passing car honks, the people inside whooping. They break apart, Cas still clinging to the front of Dean’s shirt.

“Goddamn,” Dean breathes. “Best proposal yet.”

Cas quickly slips on the ring, then starts tugging at his hand. Dean follows him, confused.

“C’mon.”

“What?”

Cas pulls him down the sidewalk.

“We need to have engagement sex, like right now.”

Later, when Cas is collapsed on top of him, dark hair tucked under his chin, the reality of everything finally hits Dean. The silver ring is cool against his heated skin, where Cas’s hand rests over his heart, a reminder that this is real, this happened, this is really happening.

“Castiel Winchester,” Cas mumbles into his neck. “I like the sound of that.”

Dean smiles.


End file.
